Family Don't End With Blood
by Horsetamer5
Summary: Au. Bobby takes in a severely traumatized Dean and Sam after John dies. Warning: mentions of child abuse
1. Chapter 1

**Hey Guys! This is my first Supernatural Fic, I apologise if the characters are OOC.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

Bobby Singer sighed as he gently ran a hand down his older adopted son's back while trying to clean up the water that the boy had spilled just accidentally spilled.

"Shh, shh, its alright, Dean, it was just an accident, nothing to get so worked up over. It just means yer not ready to use a glass yet," Bobby soothed.

Ten year old Dean Winchester just continued to sob into his adopted father's chest, his small body convulsing with the force of his tears.

" 'm sorry," Dean cried, "I didn't mean it! please don't beat me! I'll be a good boy, I promise! Just please don't get the belt!"

It was times like this that Bobby was glad that John Winchester was dead. Because if he wasn't, Bobby sure as hell would have killed John himself for all that the man had done to Sam and Dean. For now though, all Bobby could do was attempt to reverse the psychological damage that John had caused to the boys, especially to Dean.

"Hey, hey, easy, boy" Bobby said, lifting the ten-year old into his arms and settling Dean on his hip, "no one said anythin' about a beatin'. That ain't somethin' thats gonna be happening in this house. John was wrong to ever lay a hand on ya or yer brother. But's that is all gonna change now 'cause I'm your daddy now and I don't believe in hitting."

"You promise?" Dean asked, for once in his young life, managing to sound his age.

"I swear on my life, boy" Bobby murmured, "I ain't gonna lay a hand on you or Sammy."

By now, Dean's sobbing had quieted down to hitching breaths and occasional hiccoughs.

"That's it, just breath, Dean" Bobby soothed, rubbing a comforting hand on the back of Dean's neck, "there's a good boy, just keep that up and you'll be fine in no time."

Dean let out a hitched but content sigh and lay his head on his dad's shoulder, his thumb finding its way into his mouth.

Bobby knew he should be discouraging the bad habit but he couldn't find the heart to do it.

Dean had been robbed of his childhood at an early age, constantly living in fear of his father and trying to provide for his little brother. In Bobby's mind, Dean deserved to regress a little bit.

Now that both boys was permanently in Bobby's care and Dean no longer had to provide for Sam on his own; Dean had seemed to revert back to some of his childhood habits such as sucking his thumb for comfort and needing to be rocked to sleep each night, sometimes more than once when the nightmares were particularly bad. One positive result that had come out of the situation was that both Dean and Sam had latched on to Bobby immediately and acted as if Bobby was their biological father. Both boys had begun referring to Bobby as "Daddy."

The thought made Bobby smile as he checked the time as he made his way out of the kitchen, it was 2:30 in the afternoon.

"_Good,_" Bobby thought, "_Sammy is still taking his nap so I have some time to give Dean my full attention. God knows the boy needs after his little scare at lunch._" Bobby also knew that in order for Dean to be able to recover from the abuse, there would be times when the boy would need his dad all to himself.

Sitting down on the couch, Bobby situated Dean so that his older son was sitting across his lap, allowing the boy to lay his head against Bobby's chest.

Bobby took the opportunity to lift the back of Dean's shirt and examine the healing of the bruises from John's final tirade on the kid. Almost all of the bruising showed to be in it's last stages of healing.

Dean whimpered as he felt his dad lift the back of his shirt.

"Shh, shh," Bobby hushed, dropping the back of the shirt, "I was just checking the healing, sport. That's all I was doin'"

Without another word, Dean settled himself closer to his dad's chest and rubbed his cheek against Bobby's jacket, his small hands fisted in the leather.

Smiling down at his eldest, Bobby reached over to the side table and grabbed the modified sippy cup that Dean was using until he had fully recovered from the beatings he had taken from John. As a result of being hit multiple times in the face, Dean had lost almost all muscle control in his jaw. The doctors had given him a special cup to help him drink and regain his jaw strength.

Right now, the cup's most important function was to serve as a comforting tool for Dean. Even though he was ten years old, Dean liked to be treated as if he were younger, it gave Dean a sense of security that he had never had living with his dad. If it gave comfort to the boy, then that was something Bobby was willing to provide until Dean decided he no longer needed it.

Dean took the cup in his hands and began to drink as he leaned back against Bobby's chest, closing his eyes in contentment, Dean let himself fall into the peaceful oblivion of sleep. Feeling safe and secure for the first time in his life.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey Guys! This is my first Supernatural Fic, I apologise if the characters are OOC.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

Bobby was awoken in the dead of night by a strangled scream. Within seconds, Bobby was out of his bed and making his way down the hall. When he entered his sons' room, Bobby's heart nearly broke at the sight.

His ten-year old son Dean was sitting up in bed, his eyes frantic and his whole body covered in sweat. Bobby's younger son Sam was curled up against Dean's side, trying desperately to comfort his older brother.

Making his way over to the bed, Bobby knelt by Sam and whispered, "it's alright, Sammy, I'm gonna take care of Dean. You just go on back to bed."

"Ok, daddy," Sam said, after a pause,

"That's my good boy," Bobby said, reaching over and drawing Sam into a quick hug and kissing the top of his head.

Once Sam was settled, bobby turned his attention to his eldest boy. Moving slowly, Bobby made his way to the head of the bed and sat next to Dean. Almost immediately, Dean curled against his adopted father's side and fisted his hands in Bobby's shirt.

"Hey, Dean," Bobby murmured, gently maneuvering the his son so that Dean could lay his head comfortably on his chest, "what's go ya all riled up, boy? Was it a nightmare?" Bobby's only answer was a distressed whimper as Dean's sobs increased in magnitude.

"I'll take that as a yes," Bobby murmured as he stood up and lifted Dean into his arms, settling his son on his hip. It was then that Bobby noticed that his son's pajama pants were wet and Bobby knew it was not from sweat.

Dean must have noticed Bobby's realisation because he immediately began sobbing apologies over and over into his father's chest and begging Bobby not to beat him.

"Aw, kiddo," Bobby murmured sadly as he rested his chin on top of Dean's head, "It must have been a really bad nightmare, you haven't done that since when you first came here."

"I-I'm -hic- s-sorry!" Dean wailed, "p-please d-don't -hic- b-be m-ma-mad!"

"I ain't mad, boy," Bobby murmured, beginning to rock Dean back and forth in his arms.

"Now," Bobby said, once Dean had calmed a bit, "why don't we get ya cleaned up and see what can be done about getting us both some more rest.

Once Bobby had gotten his eldest boy cleaned up, he made his way into the kitchen to get some warm milk and Dean's anti anxiety medication. Heating the milk up on the stove, Bobby grabbed Dean's special cup and crushed up the pills to mix into the milk. Over the past three months, Dean had made tremendous progress with his physical healing. It was the psychological healing that was hell for the boy.

Once he had prepared the drink for his son, Bobby made his way back upstairs to his room. Dean was laying exactly where Bobby had left him on the bed. However, when he saw his adopted father approach, Dean held his arms out expectantly and looked pointedly at the rocking chair in the corner of Bobby's room.

"Alright, alright boy," Bobby chuckled as he lifted Dean into his arms again, "you really are persistent when it comes to this, aren't ya."

Dean gave his dad a cheeky grin before burying his head into the crook of Bobby's shoulder. Smiling gently, Bobby made his way over to the chair and sat down, shifting Dean in his arms so that the boy was leaning against his shoulder.

"Here, boy," Bobby said, bringing the cup to Dean's lips knowing that Dean was too tired to hold the cup on his own, "I got ya some warm milk, it'll help ya sleep."

"I don' wanna go sleep, 'm not tired no more, Daddy" Dean murmured, although his eyelids were slowly drifting closed.

"Of course you're not, champ," Bobby responded, chuckling as Dean quickly finished off his drink and curled against his father.

"Daddy, am I a good boy?" Dean asked after a while, his voice heartbreakingly timid and sad, as if he expected the answer to be no.

"Oh Dean," Bobby murmured, pressing a kiss to his eldest son's head. "Of course you're a good boy! What in the world would make you think that you're not?"

Dean shrugged, burrowing himself closer to his father, his thumb now firmly in his mouth.

Bobby let out a long sigh and decided to drop the subject for now and concentrate on getting Dean back to sleep.

After about twenty minutes, Bobby was almost asleep when he heard the door to his bedroom creak. Opening his eyes, Bobby saw his younger son Sam standing in the doorway, rubbing his eyes with one hand.

"Hey Sammy," Bobby called, quietly, "I thought you were supposed to be asleep"

"Can I sleep with you and Dean, daddy?" Sam asked in a small voice, "I can't sleep alone."

"Sure, champ," Bobby said, motioning for Sam to enter the room as he stood up from the rocking chair and made his way over to the bed. Laying Dean on the far side of the bed and climbing in himself, Bobby motioned for Sam to lay down next to him.

The eight year old quickly obeyed and lay his head on Bobby's chest. Dean had shifted in his sleep so that he was laying his head on the other side of Bobby's chest and one of his hands had a gently grip on Bobby's T-shirt.

Smiling to himself, Bobby leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of Dean's head before doing the same with Sam.

Closing his eyes, Bobby sent out a whisper into the darkness before falling into the deep oblivion of sleep.

"Sleep well, boys, Daddy's here, ain't nothing gonna hurt ya on my watch.


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey Guys! This is my first Supernatural Fic, I apologise if the characters are OOC.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

Bobby, smiled as he entered the living room he had just finished putting Sam to bed and was coming back downstairs to spend some quality time with his older son, Dean. The boy in question was sprawled out on the carpet, engrossed in one of Bobby's car manuals. It had now been two years since Bobby had adopted Dean and Sam, and Bobby could honestly say that these had been the happiest two years of his life. He could also say, with confidence, that both Dean and Sam had grown tremendously since their adoption.

Dean had come to Bobby as a traumatized and insecure child who flinched at any sudden movement, had too many injuries to count, feared that any small mistake would result in a beating and frequently wet the bed after a nightmare. Sam had come with his own set of problems; at six years old, Sam had limited speech capabilities and had yet to be enrolled in school.

Now, after two years of numerous doctors appointments, physical and speech therapy, counseling, being enrolled in school, and most of all, love; Dean and Sam were now confident, and happy children. Bobby could not be more proud.

"Hey, son," Bobby said, fondly as he lifted his twelve year old son into his arms , "how's my sweet boy doin', huh?"

"I'm good, Daddy," Dean giggled, resting his head on Bobby's shoulder as his dad rubbed a gentle hand down his back.

The stayed like that for a while, Bobby just enjoying the fact that he was holding one of his boys in his arms and Dean enjoying the comfort and security that came with being held by his dad.

Bobby adjusted his grip on Dean and walked outside onto the porch, still holding his eldest boy.

"Look, Sport," Bobby said, pointing up to a shooting star in the sky.

"Wow," Dean murmured and it tugged at Bobby's heart to hear such a tone of childish wonder in his boy's voice. Dean had been forced to grow up much too young and had experienced more pain and heartbreak in his short years than most would in a lifetime. It said loads about Dean's resiliance that he could still possess that wonder and innocence after everything that he had been through and seen.

"You know what they say about fallin' stars don't ya, Dean?" Bobby asked.

"Nu-uh," Dean said, still staring up at myriad of twinkling crystals in the sky.

"They say that every falling star is a soul on it's way to heaven and that every star in the sky is someone we love watchin' over us from beyond."

"Daddy?" Dean asked after a pause, "do you think that mommy is up there? watching over me and Sammy?"

Bobby swallowed thickly, before answering, "Of course, Dean. Yer momma always said that angels are watchin' over you."

Dean's only response was a content sigh as he lay his head on his dad's shoulder.

It was late when Bobby finally got his eldest son settled into bed. Dean had been exhausted when they re-entered the house and Bobby had ended up basically bathing and dressing the kid for bed. When Bobby moved to lay Dean on his bed, the boy whimpered and clung tighter to his dad.

"What is it, Dean?" Bobby asked, gently.

"Sammy," Dean murmured sleepily, " 'want sleep with Sammy. Daddy sleep with Dean and Sammy."

"Alright, sport," Bobby murmured soothingly, rocking Dean slightly in his arms as he made his way into Sam's room. Bobby couldn't help but smile as Dean wrapped his arms around Sammy the minute he was placed on the bed.

Knowing that Dean would not fully settle down until his dad was laying with him, Bobby lay down on the bed and placed an arm around his two boys. After he was sure that they were safe and settled, Bobby allowed himself to fall into the peaceful embrace of sleep.


End file.
